


(Not Really) Lost in Translation

by Krissielee



Series: Tumblr Prompt-a-thon, December 2016 [7]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee
Summary: Eggsy's adept with languages--as is Harry. Half the time they don't realise they're not even speaking the same language. After all, it's still understood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt--language based! Yay, polyglot!Eggsy!
> 
> It's all Google translated, so if you're smarter than I am on these languages, please let me know and I'll correct them.

The door to the flat slammed open, and Eggsy winced as he shoved the book deep under his mattress. Dean would be looking for him at any moment, and if he looked like he was enjoying anything Dean would take it. He’d learned that long ago.

“Oi, get your arse out there an’ fuckin’ earn your keep, yeah?” Dean spat, barging into Eggsy’s room. Eggsy resisted the urge to fight; his mum hated it when he fought with Dean (though the man deserved everything Eggsy could give him and more).

Eggsy merely nodded, grimacing when Dean passed a bag of pills for him to sell. Nobody ever suspected a 13-year-old of pushing drugs, not even in their neighbourhood.

He’d get the money somehow, without resorting to selling again. The hoppers were already watching him for his connections to his stepfather’s drugs.

And if he managed to lift a little extra, he’d buy another book on Chinese grammar. The ladies down at the market seemed to think he was doing well when he dropped by to practice, anyway.

\--

By the time he was 16, Eggsy was getting more lax about leaving his books out. He’d been careful before so that his studies didn’t go the way of his gymnastics, but now, more often than not, Dean was too drunk or stoned to recognise that the titles weren’t in English, and he often just assumed Eggsy was into foreign porn, which suited Eggsy just fine. He got enough shit without having to explain his love of languages—he was now conversationally fluent in Portuguese and Arabic to go with his Chinese—and his love of boys. If Dean knew that, Eggsy would be better off getting himself gaoled than suffering Dean’s homophobic abuse.

Eggsy smiled, mouthing the sentence once more: ‘Myn hovercraft sit fol mei iel.’ (1) He wasn’t sure how useful that one would be, but maybe he’d get a laugh when he used it. He already got a laugh from the bloke at the corner market when he said ‘مبيعرفش في البطيخ.’ (2) 

\--

Dropping out of school, and then the Marines, meant Eggsy had lost any opportunity to really study anything in-depth. His stack of language books only grew, with Welsh, German, and Swahili joining what he already knew. He spent so much time watching his sister that he had plenty of time to add to his linguistic repertoire, and it helped when Dean sent him out to deal with his distributors—they were a lot more willing to give him a deal when they knew he could understand what they were saying.

“Usiogope, upendo, nimepata wewe,” (3) he whispered to his sleeping sister, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she pulled her teddy bear closer.

\--

Harry Hart was a test against temptation, Eggsy was convinced. He was exactly what he’d always liked in men: tall, cocky, and able to fight. He wore a suit like it was a second skin, and he’d bailed Eggsy out. 

When, a few months after V-Day, they’d found him recovering in a Kentucky hospital, Eggsy added another thing he liked in his men to the list: _living_. Sure, he had a limp that he’d not had before, a few more scars than previously, but there he was, walking into Kingsman headquarters, no longer Galahad, but Harry graciously gave the title to Eggsy and let himself be christened with the title of Lamorak.

He was so thankful to see the man alive that he didn’t realise he wasn’t even speaking English at first, but Harry only smiled and replied back in fluent German.

 _That_ was hot. Eggsy had assumed Harry spoke something else; he was posh as hell and probably learned seventeen languages before finishing secondary. 

He just hadn’t counted on needing to hide an erection from hearing Harry speak another language. 

When he showed Harry his own aptitude for languages and explained how he’d learned, Harry had smiled warmly and made sure he had the finest materials to learn from in the future. Dozens of languages were available to him, from Adangme to Zulu.

He was going to learn them all.

\--

“Gdzie jest wyjście?” (4) Eggsy called, mid-firefight, eyes scanning for any way out of their current predicament.

“Chuj wie!” (5) Harry yelled back, disarming one man and shoving his elbow into the throat of another. “Myślę, że musimy iść w górę!” (6) 

Eggsy nodded, and began clearing a path to the stairs—if nothing else, they could get to a roof and escape that way.

“Idemo!” (7) Eggsy yelled once he’d downed another half dozen men, making a path for their escape. “Ovo neće biti naš grob!” (8) 

“Mas malala pa ang tinakasan natin kaysa rito!” (9) Harry panted as they raced up the stairs, dodging bullets, eyes trained on doors for any foes they’d need to contend with on their trek skyward.

“This is no different,” Eggsy agreed, turning around and jumping down the stairs, hearing a satisfying crunch as he landed heavily on the man following them.

“Gentlemen, we’ve a helicopter en route to your location,” Merlin’s voice broke in when there was a break in their assailants. “Can you last five more minutes?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy said. “tre etager endnu; we’ll make it.” (10)

They were silent for the rest of the run, conserving their energy should they be greeted on the roof by anything other than a Kingsman chopper.

The way was free, and as they climbed in and buckled up, Eggsy leaned over, kissing Harry deeply for just a moment. “Ek is lief vir jou,” (11) he whispered.

Merlin cleared his throat over the comms. “If you could keep your mission chatter to English in the future, that would be wonderful.”

Eggsy blinked, glancing at Harry. It was clear that the other man was just as surprised to find out they hadn’t been speaking English the whole time.

“We’ll, uh, do our best,” Eggsy murmured.

“Tsia, tsy isika,” (12) Harry countered, causing Eggsy to grin and Merlin to curse softly before cutting the comms.

**Author's Note:**

> \--
> 
> 1 - Frisian; my hovercraft is full of eels  
> 2 - Arabic; they don’t know in the watermelon (aka - ‘mabye'rafsh fi el batteekh’)  
> 3 - Swahili; don’t worry, love, I’ve got you  
> 4 - Polish; where’s the exit?  
> 5 - Polish; no fucking clue – edited by lady-mephistopheles, who is smarter than I and knows Polish  
> 6 - Polish; I think we need to go up  
> 7 - Croatian; let’s go  
> 8 - Croatian; this won’t be our grave  
> 9 - Filipino; we’ve made it out of worse – edited by ligayaharukadiwata, who also knows more than I do, especially regarding Filipino  
> 10 - Danish; three flights to go - corrected by Mille, the third person smarter than me :D  
> 11 - Afrikaans; I love you  
> 12 - Malagasy; no we won’t


End file.
